Learning to get Beyond
by LusayLu182
Summary: Marius Pontmercy was the only survivor of the barricade, except for Cosette's father, but that could've been a dream for all he knew. The only thing he did know was that his closest and dearest friends had lost their lives. And his life is changing so fast...almost too fast...


**Lusay**: Hi guyses! (Waves) it's been forever since I've tried a new story, so here it is! I hope you really enjoy it. I'm basically focusing on Marius and the emotional trauma of losing his closest friends, and then having so many changes thrown at him. Getting beyond isn't as easy as it might look. Anywho! Read, review, and enjoy!

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_Learning to get Beyond_

_Chapter one: Survival is a Good Thing, Right?_

Marius Pontmercy's green eyes flickered open for a moment, before closing once more. He had been slipping in and out of consciousness for days now, not that he knew anything of the sort. He opened his eyes again, looking about him with hazy vision. _I must be dead_, he thought. _I must have been killed at the barricade and now I'm- no I'm not_ _dead_, he changed his mind as a stab of pain flashed through his left shoulder after an attempt to move it. He fell back against his pillow, a pain-filled gasp escaping his dry lips.

"Marius," a familiar voice said, a hand resting on his good shoulder. "You must lie here. You're still as stubborn as ever."

Marius looked toward the voice and blinked rapidly a few times before he was able to clearly see the elderly gentleman at his bedside.

"You stubborn boy," his grandfather muttered, shaking his white head. "Insisting on running about and joining a band of rebels-"

Marius didn't hear anything else. The barricade! The others! His friends; what had become of them? Marius opened his mouth to speak, but nothing would come out.

His grandfather stopped talking briefly to help him with a glass of water. "Drink this, you must be parched. As I was saying, Marius, you could have died," the old man's voice trembled slightly. "I thought you had died for certain-"

"Grandfather," Marius choked out in a scratchy voice. "What has become of my companions of the barricade on the rue de la-"

His grandfather gave him a sharp look. "Do not interrupt, Marius. Why would you wish to know the fate of those criminals anyhow?"

Marius bit back an angry reply and stared at his hands. Now was not the time to argue, as much as he despised the thought of his friends being considered criminals. Instead, while his grandfather lectured, he thought of each and every one of his close friends, his compatriots, his...brothers. The most intimate of these friendships had been with Courfeyrac, the animated law student he had been living with periodically. The young man constantly had some witty little joke or comment, an amused manner concerning almost everything. Then there was Enjolras, the passionate leader of the group. He and Marius hadn't seen eye to eye in the beginning, but Enjolras had this air about him, something about his remarkable speech that nearly forced one to look around with new eyes. There were others too; wise Combeferre, the gentle poet Prouvaire, Bossuet and Joly, quiet Feuilly, fiery Bahorel, and melancholy Grantaire.

What had become of them? Were they hiding in a garret somewhere in Paris, planning and waiting for another opportunity to attack? Were they still meeting at the Café Muslain? No, the authorities would be searching for the revolutionary leaders, and Enjolras would most certainly be near the top of the list. He had been particularly fond of giving incredible public speeches. Was he now a refugee? Had he escaped the city, perhaps the country? No, Enjolras would not leave France, he was too loyal to his Patria. Perhaps he was outside the city somewhere. What of the others? Had they followed their leader? More than likely.

_What if they had died?_

Marius shivered. He already knew some of them had met that very fate. He had seen the gruesome death of Bahorel, he had heard the gunshots that ended Prouvaire's poetry permanently. Had the others followed? Could it be that he, Marius Pontmercy, the man who hadn't been as dedicated, as committed as the others, the one who would daydream and hardly hear a word of Enjolras' speeches, the one who came to the barricade to die, could it be he was the sole survivor? No. Marius shivered again. They were still alive, some of them, Grantaire! He had been asleep during the battle, he at least was alive. _I'll find him,_ Marius vowed. _The moment I'm well enough, I'll find him. He must know something. _

"...that beautiful young woman, Marius, the one you wished to marry..."

Marius slowly became aware of his grandfather's voice once more and his ears perked up. "Cosette?" He questioned, a light shade of red on his cheeks.

His grandfather nodded excitedly. "Yes! Cosette, of course! Marius, she is a jewel, that young woman! A lovely, generous, kindhearted woman she is! I would not mind marrying her myself were I not as I am. But you, my boy! Marry her with my blessing!"

Marius was overjoyed by his grandfather's change of heart, but he was also puzzled. "Cosette is in England," he pointed out.

His grandfather shook his head. "If that is so, I cannot imagine who the sweet little woman who came every day with her father, an older gentleman, with fresh lint for that blasted wound of yours!"

Marius felt his eyes get wider. "She is in Paris then?" He asked, getting far too excited than one in his condition should be in.

"I say she is," his grandfather agreed.

"When can I see her?" Marius asked, attempting to sit up slightly, but he groaned in pain and fell back against the cushions.

His grandfather shook his head. "Once you've recovered a bit. The mere thought of her lifts your spirits, but you grow so excited you may harm yourself."

Marius knew he should rest, but his thoughts were running about wildly. _Cosette is still here! I may wed her!_ The thought of a wedding in the future made him nervous and excited all at once. A wedding. _His_ wedding. He survived the barricade and now he was fortunate enough to wed Cosette!

Another thought flew at him. Weddings have guests. Who would he rather invite than Courfeyrac and the others? What had become of them? Marius glanced at his grandfather and contemplated questioning him again. _No,_ he thought. _It would do no good. I must recover. I must. Then I'll ask questions. _


End file.
